


green eyes, you are the one that i wanted to find

by orphan_account



Series: drinking cherry schnapps in the velvet night [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Flowerchild!Harry, M/M, Punk!Louis, just read it ok?, there's homophobic slurs so be careful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis doesn't get why the boy who wears the flowers on his head gets bullied all the time. Maybe it's because people aren't allowed to be as happy as Harry was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	green eyes, you are the one that i wanted to find

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my, I've jumped the bandwagon! I hope you all enjoy this fic, it took me forever to write and I basically listened to Coldplay the whole time, as you'll notice haha.  
> Title is from "Green Eyes" (Coldplay, obviously.)  
> Please kudo, comment, and bookmark if you liked it! :D

Louis just didn’t get why people wouldn’t stop teasing the boy with the flowers in his hair. He saw next to no problem with him at all, with the exception that he would be too excited all the damn time. How he survived the bullying, Louis wasn’t sure.

He sat next to him in his English class, and boy, did they look like an odd pair. Louis with his red dyed hair, illegal tattoos and black band tanks that went with his converse. Harry with his outrageous sweaters, galaxy pants and glittering pink Sketchers that looked like they belonged to a fifth grader and the every-changing arrangement of flowers wreathed around his chocolate brown ringlets.

Louis likes to believe that Harry actually enjoyed the time he spent with Louis more than any other time of the school day. That hour and a half spent in the boring English class reading depressing stories of sadness and fear among other things, with Harry practically grinning the entire time. They barely talked to one another, but sometimes if class was especially slow, Harry would settle his chin on one hand, and use the other to trace the designs that marked Louis’ skin. Louis enjoys these moments with Harry most, for he can feel the tingling of the younger lad’s gentle touch sending those unfamiliar shocks through his skin. It makes him feel a euphoria that he’d never get from getting inked or screaming obscenities into the microphone in his garage band.

Louis was confused with his peers and almost everyone else in school. He saw Harry getting picked on daily, rather it being shoved into the brick walls of the hallway or getting called unsavory names such as ‘faggot’ or ‘queer’. Just because he wore the colorful petals on his head and was always cheerful. Maybe people weren’t supposed to be as happy as Harry Styles was, but Louis admired him for it. He never had told him that though.

So when he sees Harry practically weeping out in the courtyard one extremely cold winter’s day, he just has to see what’s going on.

“Zayn, could you take my books to the drama room? Mrs. Spakly has to understand.” Louis says, handing his raven-haired friend his things.

“You still after that flower-boy? Styles?” Zayn questions, but gets no answer as Louis speeds off, so he sighs and walks on toward the drama classroom.

Louis feels like he’s taken fifty years to get to where Harry was, as obvious as a glitter fairy. He’s wearing a crown made of what Louis believes are witch hazel flowers, which make it look as if the boy has orange and yellow tentacles sprouting from his curls. But Louis can’t see his face, it’s covered by his large hands as he shudders and cries out into them.

“Harry? Are you all right?” Louis asks, placing a hand on Harry’s back, not faltering as the boy flinches under his touch.

“N-no.” Harry stutters, sliding a hand down to look at Louis with one eye as he realizes who’s next to him. “It’s too much, Louis. Too much.”

“What happened? You’re always this little crazy ball of sunshine that never got put out by the waters…”Louis mumbles, trying to find words, but clearly lost.

“Someone took my lucky animal charm. It got me through the day, Lou. It reminded me that I was beautiful, ‘cause I know I’m not. I’m just an ugly fag who wears these stupid crowns and wears shit every day.”

Harry sniffles as he roughly grabs his flower crown and takes it off his head, tossing it to the ground a few feet in front of him and Louis. He then curls into himself, legs shuffled up to his chest and face buried in-between his knees. Louis’ not quite sure how to react, he’s never seen Harry so upset before in his life, so everything is completely new to him.

Though it’s not very _punk_ of him, Louis decides right then and there that he’s going to help this kid, this boy who’s changed him from the inside, though he doesn’t quite realize that himself. He get up and runs over to where the artfully crafted crown is and picks it up between his middle and pointer fingers. He observes it, for the crown looks different without a head to be placed on. The crown looks rather lonely by itself, Louis thinks as he walks back to where Harry is, still not looking up from where he is.

Louis delicately places the crown back on Harry’s head, and even though it looks lopsided, it looks loads better there. He notices how cold it is, and how Harry has no coat to call his own, so he shucks off his own dark black pilot’s coat and wraps it around the younger boy.

“Why are you helping me?” Harry’s question is slightly muffled by his legs, but he sounds somewhat offended.

“Because. You’re worth helping. I think you’re beautiful, very unique, and that’s just awesome.” Louis replies as he leans into Harry’s side, beginning to freeze from lack of a cover.

“Yeah right, you’re just trying to woo me so you can hurt me again, like everyone else. I’m not stupid, even though I may act the part.”

Harry’s face is unhidden at this point, his green eyes sharp and noticeable in the grey weather, and it makes Louis pause for a moment to study them.

“So not true, Styles. I actually like your shoes, though I think they’d look better with black studs on the toe instead of pink. And I’m bloody jealous of your hair, how do you even do that?” Louis prods into Harry’s side, making him break a small smile as he whacks Louis’ hands away.

Harry gets up then, reaching a hand down to Louis, who gladly takes it after a moment. It’s very warm, and the grip Harry has on his calms him even though he’s shivering now. Definitely not the right day to wear a thin tee shirt.

“You’re coming with me and we’re going to skip the rest of the day. I wanna know what you punk guys do when you skip school, so you’re gonna show me or I won’t talk to you again.” Harry smirks, dragging Louis to the parking lot.

“Ha ha, very funny, Harry. We seriously don’t do much when we skip, just sit around the bridge at the park and smoke and other shit. Are you trying to blackmail me?” Louis snorts as he’s being taken to the student parking lot, where he sees an olive green Chevy parked, he can tell immediately it’s Harry’s. 

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Now come onnnnn! Tell me somewhere where you go to have fun, Lou!” Harry almost begs as he opens the passenger door and pushes Louis in, running around the other side to get himself in.

Louis fixes himself in his seat and buckles up before answering the awaiting boy in the driver’s seat. “I actually go to the place where I get my tattoos, the boss there’s super cool and it’s really great there. I’m sure you’ll love it once I show you why _I_ enjoy it.”

Harry has on this comical grin that’s showing all his pearl white teeth as he starts the motor to the car, and it strikes Louis as something that he’d never seen before. It’s stunning. So he grins right back, with the crinkles by his eyes and his eyebrow piercings nearly painful as he’s impossibly happy.

“One more question, Lou.” Harry pipes up as he starts playing a mix CD that Louis realizes is Coldplay.

“Hmm?”

“Are those piercings on your face painful when you move your mouth and eyebrows and stuff?”

“Sometimes, but mostly I try to ignore that.”

The ride to the little tattoo parlor Louis gave Harry directions to is mostly silent, which the exception of when Louis mumbled along to the music in the car. With “Fix You” playing, everything feels pretty serene to Louis, and it reminds him of the days when he was in middle school when he was all indie rock and everyone thought he was tons smarter than he was. Transforming himself into this punk he was with the red hair and permanent lines was how he escaped from the eye of everyone. They feared him now, he was kind of in a league where people stereotype with the thugs, and Louis knows he’d never beat someone up unless he had good reason to.

Soon the car comes to a stop, and Harry shuts off the music, fixing to get out of the car. Louis takes a moment to realize he’s stopped, and hurriedly gets out so he can guide Harry inside.

As they walk down the stairs towards to sound of heavy metal music, Harry locks hands with Louis, and he leans slightly towards him. At the door, Louis knocks a certain amount of times, and it’s only a few moments later that it opens, revealing a bright blond haired lad, not much younger than Louis. His arms are covered in tattoos and he has snakebite mouth piercings which are bright green. He’s wearing an Ireland soccer jersey and basketball shorts.

“Heya Lou! You skipping school? Huh…Come in anyhow. Please tell me you haven’t knocked up this pretty boy here, have you?” he gestures to Harry, who blushes madly, almost matching the red on his Christmas sweater.

“Oh my god, Niall. _No._ I’m only here to show him around, you know, general tour guide shit?” Louis sighs, walking deeper into the shop, which is empty at the time, except for the girl at the cash register whose nametag read _Perrie._ He turns to Harry, who looks embarrassed even though his eyes are wondering around the shop. “Sorry about that, Niall for you, keeps trying to ask me if I get into every body’s pants. Gets annoying after the first few guys.”

“You’re into guys?” Harry asks quietly as he sticks to Louis, green eyes curious.

“Yeah, haven’t dated since Grimshaw freshman year though.” Louis replies, afraid he’s now losing Harry over his sexuality.

“Oh. I’m into guys too, actually.” Harry’s voice drops to a whisper, looking down at his neon pink tennis shoes.

Louis smiles small as he leads his new friend into the back room, which is basically storage, with an exception of the drafting desk in the back of it, covered in pictures. There’s two high-standing chairs in front of it, painted black with red dots and splatters.

“Welcome to the drawing board. My personal heaven, if you ask me.” Louis says as he hops up into a chair, helping Harry into the other one. “I come here and draw whatever I think of, so I guess I draw a bunch of dark stuff. It never leaves this room unless Niall wants to advertise it as a tattoo design. Actually, this one here,” Louis points to a tattoo of a three headed snake with the body of a lamb. “Is one I drew myself and got put on…I think I was drunk when I decided that though.”

Harry chuckles at that remark and looks over the pictures, most of them dark and gory as Louis had said, until he looks at a picture that looks like him. “Um….Is this me?” he timidly questions, pointing to the picture of the smiling boy with flowers in his hair.

“Yeah. I drew that sometime last week, I think? It was after you traced up my right arm finally. I was feeling electricity, I swear.”

Harry nods and finds a loose piece of paper and a pen, beginning to scribble on the paper, eyes narrowed in concentration. It gives Louis a moment to look at the jeans he’s wearing, they’re a different design from what he’s usually seen Harry wear. It’s yellow with purple polka dots on it, and it makes Louis chuckle quietly, which the younger lad doesn’t notice.

A piece of paper’s shoved into Louis’ lap, and he looks over at Harry, who looks back at him, eyebrow raised. Louis picks up the paper and looks at it, and he nearly gasps. _Harry drew him._ And god be damned, Harry’s a really good artist.

“You’re good with your hands, Styles.” Is the only thing Louis says out of the millions of other things he could have said.

“Are you trying to imply something?” Harry asks, a smirk on his face again, and Louis just thinks he looks absolutely sexy with that expression.

“No. I’m just saying you can create things really good.” Louis’ trying to keep a straight face, though it’s hard as he accidently nudges the stereo behind him on.

_Coldplay is playing._

Harry giggles, and Louis thinks that’s adorable, but he doesn’t say anything, just clips the drawing at the top of the drafting table, among other pictures of demons and darkness.

Louis’ pretty sure they could stay here forever if that was possible, but he knows that’s not to be. But for now, he’d like to keep it here, slow music in the background, sitting in front of his new friend. Harry Styles, the boy with the flower crown and bright colors and happiness.

They’re just like two ugly ducklings, swans on the inside waiting to come out to the world.


End file.
